Blue Iris
by pickletwile
Summary: “The scent of an iris is the strongest during the rain, but it is an ephemeral plant, blooming only for a short period of time.” It's a pity, since irises are so beautiful when they bloom...


**Blue Iris**

_One-shot by pickletwile_

"Slow down, we're going too fast." It seemed more like a nonchalantly uttered statement than an urgent exclamation coming from Okita.

Even though he slammed his foot down on the brakes, the car slowed down by only a fraction. The traffic light in front of him turned red, and the cars on the street in front of him started moving along. It almost seemed like he was watching a video in slow motion, the objects moving along frame by frame, bit by bit.

Then, someone hit the "play" button and everything resumed its normal pace. The last thing he heard was the screeching of brakes, the scrape of metal against metal, of rubber against concrete, and the shouts of Okita and some other unidentifiable people near him.

Mercifully, darkness took him.

"Where am I? What happened?" These thoughts raced through his head as he regained consciousness. He tried to sit up, and found out that he was numb all over; he couldn't move at all. His eyelids felt like two giant slabs of slate, but he managed to raise them into thin slits.

A raven-haired girl stood at the edge of his bed, arranging something on the bedside table. "Who is she? Why is she here?" More questions came, but he just couldn't think any further about it. The steady beat of the cardiac monitor somewhere in the room coupled with the faint flowery smell had a comfortably hypnotic effect, and he was once again unconscious.

He woke to the scent of jasmine and the soft tones of a female talking. Straining, he tried to open his eyes.

"You've been in a coma for three days now. Everyone's worried about you." So that explained his state of immobility. He vaguely remembered something about a car crash…

"After the crash, the news spread. On the first day, there were hundreds of reporters outside your ward, trying to get a glimpse of you. Well, I'm not really surprised. After all, you are Seta Soujiro, Japan's richest man's son. By the way, your father's still in Switzerland, negotiating something urgent with his suppliers…"

He gave up trying to open his eyes. That fit his father perfectly. When he was home in Japan, all he ever did was work, work and work. No "How was your day son?", or "Did you do your homework?" In fact, he barely returned home. Sure Soujiro lived in a bungalow; sure he had a hundred dollars a week for his allowance; but the house was cold and empty, and the things he bought often ended up in the trash a week later. It was so typical that his father would choose work over his own son. Since his mother died, his father seemed to have distanced himself from him. He didn't understand, and refused to understand…

"I thought you'd be lonely, and the doctor said the best thing for you now is to have someone talk to you, so I decided to come over everyday. My workplace's nearby, so it's rather convenient…"

Lonely? He had Okita. Wait, the car crash… Okita…

"My brother's recovering very fast. Remember, yesterday I told you that he'd opened his eyes? Well, today his hands twitched. That idiot has too hard a head to die because of a little concussion. I'm Kaoru, and my brother's Okita by the way…"

So she was Okita's sister. But he had never met her before. He dimly remembered the name "Kaoru", but couldn't really put a face to that name. Besides, why would she waste her time talking to a person in a coma who probably was never going to wake up…?

He heard the rustling of something soft beside him. "These blue irises are wilting. I'll need to replace them… I don't know why, but I have the impression that you're a blue-eyed person. It's funny, since I've never seen a native Japanese besides me with blue eyes before. Hmm, maybe Okita said something. But it doesn't matter. Blue's my favourite colour anyway. Red's my second favourite."

A pause, a deep breath, and then, "I think the colour of the flowers I buy for you will be blue." Silence reigned once more.

She gazed upon what she thought would have been a handsome boyish face if not for the hollowness of his cheeks and the paleness of his skin. His tousled black-brown hair lay limp on his pillow, and his eyes remained stubbornly shut. His lips were cracked due to the lack of water, and his hand, which she held in hers, was so very cold.

She then laughed a rather forced, sad laugh. "I feel kind of stupid, talking to you. I don't even know if you can hear me! I used to talk all the time and no one would listen to me. At least now I can pretend that you're listening, ne? If I've repeated anything, I apologize first; I'll never know when you start listening, right?"

"Hey, do you know something about irises?" Her tone now was much brighter, lighter. "The scent of an iris is the strongest during the rain, but it is an ephemeral plant, blooming only for a short period of time. It's a pity, since irises are so beautiful when they bloom."

Time passed by. How long had he been lying on that bed? He couldn't really tell. Slowly, he regained his senses, but his eyes were still sealed shut, and he still couldn't move.

The ward he was in always smelt too clean. The smell of disinfectant and medicine lingered in the air, and the doctors and nurses that came to check on him seemed jaded, their shuffling footsteps and weary sighs a constant reminder of what the world was like outside the darkness of his mind. Yet, he looked forward to the days ahead.

Everyday without fail, she would come in, sometimes with new stories about the little things happening in her life, sometimes with new flowers just for the sake of having something different. However, she never threw the old ones away, no matter how wilted they were, so he now had three vases on his bedside table, the flowers in them ranging from bluebells to campanula.

He heard the door to his private ward swing open, light staccato steps bringing with them the scent of jasmine mixed with another unfamiliar yet pleasant fragrance. She was here, and she had brought new flowers.

He heard the soft rustling of crepe paper, and a thud as she sat down on the chair at the edge of his bed. "Hey. Guess what I bought? Yep, the flower of the week is the blue delphinium!"

She then began talking about her day, about how her boss was being a grouch again, and how her annoying rival at work insulted her directly in front of him. It was entertaining, the way she described the people in her everyday life, her voice going from soft whispers like she was telling him something private and confidential to huge exclamations of outrage.

"My brother's finally recovered fully! He's coming to visit you for the next few days while I'm busy. These delphiniums won't wilt until my next visit…"

She trailed off and a pondering silence filled the room. It was not awkward, just tense.

He wondered why she had stopped talking. She usually talked until visiting hours were over… Then, she whispered so softly that he could barely catch it if not for his acute sense of hearing.

"Why won't you wake up? You've been asleep for so long… haven't you rested enough? Everyone's so worried. Your father's rushing back in two days' time. Why won't you wake up? Why _can't_ you wake up?"

He felt something wet and warm land on his hand. He knew she was crying, but could not comfort her. He could not assuage her fears. He could not tell her that he was trying; he was trying to wake up. He could not do anything. He was so pathetic and helpless, and he hated being in that state.

For the next couple of days, Okita came to visit him. He was his usual self, cheerful and bright, as if he hadn't been in a car crash at all.

"I knew you loved to sleep, but never knew you were such a pig. Come on, aren't you going to wake up? If you don't wake up in three days time, I'm going over to your house and taking your 'Playstation Two'."

He could tell that Okita was worried about him, and had expressed it in his own way. He might not have his father, but he had Okita and Kaoru. That was enough.

On that day, Seta Soujiro decided that he would continue to live.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The raindrops fell onto the foggy window pane like silver bullets. It was May, and such heavy rain meant relief for both plants and humans during that particular dry summer in Japan.

Kamiya Kaoru was back in the private ward she had been constantly visiting the past few months. She had both good news and bad news for the patient inside. She entered, carrying a bouquet of deep blue irises.

"Hi! I'm back! How are you? Anyway, guess what? I got a job in the States, and I'll be leaving tomorrow! I'll be gone for three years. But relax, I'll be back and it'll seem like no time had passed at all! And by that time, you'd better be awake! My brother's coming over with me with a year or so but don't worry, we'll be back! Besides, your father's back, so he'll visit you." She said in a rush, pausing only to take a deep breath. Then she continued, as if a load had been taken off her shoulders, "Oh, by the way, I brought irises today. It's cool isn't it? Look, the first batch of irises is still here!"

There was an awkward pause that he had heard only on the first day he met her. "The beginning and the end…"

The rain continued on, even heavier than before. The trees shook and the raindrops battered the umbrellas of the passers-by below. She followed the downward descent of a raindrop on the window.

Standing up, she put the irises in a new vase she had asked for earlier, and continued with her usual chatter.

Halfway through one of her stories about her best friend, the door to the ward opened. That had never happened before.

Then, a male voice called out, "Hey, are you ready to go?"

She turned to her fiancé, eyeing the drop of rain which trickled down from his blood red hair, catching on his chin and dropping onto the collar of his shirt. He must have run through the rain.

"Yeah, almost done. Give me a minute, Kenshin."

But when she turned, she missed the slight twitching of his fingers.

"Bye then. I'll be back. Be well." She smoothed back his hair and gently kissed his forehead.

He heard the door open, and then close with a sense of finality.

Blue irises revealed themselves for a second. Then his eyelids slowly drooped, closing until they were lost to the world forever.

The cardiac monitor stopped beeping, whining a straight line of death.

"_The scent of an iris is the strongest during the rain, but it is an ephemeral plant, blooming only for a short period of time."_

Outside, it continued raining.

A/N: Hi! Twile here! I really love Sou-chan, so please don't kill me! Pickle doesn't really support Sou/Kao, but who cares? They look really cute together, though BKK is still my no. 1 favorite pairing! Anyway, I wrote this story for the commonwealth essay competition last year with those two in mind, though I tweaked it a little so that it flowed better. Pickle helped me to edit it, since my English sucks and sometimes my thoughts aren't very coherent, so yay for her! gives pickle a cookie

Anyway, review please! Constructive criticisms to improve our writing are most welcome!


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